by MJ McGriff
“It’s understandable you’re not convinced,” he continued. “Being out here goes against half a dozen charter laws. Did you even stop to think how legal that document is?”
I raised my eyebrow. “You’re kidding me, right?” The New Earth Charter was everything, drafted by the United Leaders of Old Earth to govern us once we got here. It gave the president, his advisors, and even people like my father the power to make this planet a home for all of us.
“Old Earth is millions of light years away and, for all we know, everyone there is long gone.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true and quite frankly, the charter is a piece of paper those in power use to do whatever they want.”
“It’s our rule of law.”
His calm and cool composure was starting to crack. “Our rule of law needs to come from the people living here, not dead men on a dying planet.”
“So people should follow you?”
His shoulders relaxed again, a smile on his face. “No. I just happen to be the one the people elected to lead them.”
I sneered at him. He sounded ridiculous. He rubbed the short, brown hairs on his chin.
“Let me ask you this,” he said, breaking the awkward silence. “Did you know that the people in Sector C have been starving for the past few months?”
Lies. Those were where the blue collar workforce of our colony lived. They took care of everything in each sector, from the solar panels to ground vehicles. Taking care of them was as important as taking care of everyone else. We couldn’t function without them. “Of course they aren’t,” I replied finally.
He went over to one of the wall cubbies and pulled out a gray digital tablet. He tapped on it a few times before showing a rotating gallery of images. The first was of a colonist dressed in workman’s jumpsuit sitting at a table with a feeble looking woman. They shared two slices of bread on a dirty table. The next was a long line of people waiting at a closed Ration Station window. “Supply day wasn’t for another couple of days,” Oliver explained. “But in Sector B if you don’t get there early enough, you won’t get anything.” The third image was of two children scrounging around in garbage receptacles.
I turned away, not wanting to believe what I was seeing. There was no way our president would let people live like that. In Sector A there was plenty of food and supplies for everyone to buy. Even the government cap on how much people could buy made sure there was enough to go around. Our farmers in Sector B boasted about their surplus of foodstuffs every month.
“Anybody with the right coding skills could doctor those photos,” I said, though my gut knew better.
“Perhaps,” he said. “But it doesn’t explain why everyone in Sector C is now living here.”
“You’re the one who kidnapped all those people?” My father would be furious when he found this out.
“I didn’t kidnap anyone. I gave them a much better way to live and they took it.”
“So you mean to tell me they all up and left to come here? A place no one else knows about?”
“It was a little more complicated than that, but yes.”
They were locked up here somewhere. I knew they were. All I had to do was find them and figure a way back home. Oliver looked at his watch. “The hour is late. You and your friends must be exhausted.”
That was something we could agree on, though I couldn’t sleep knowing I was in the company of admitted traitors.
“As a sign of good faith, I’ll give you all more comfortable accommodations. In the morning I’ll show you what this place is all about.”
The woman came back in and as she untied me from the chair all I could do was count down the minutes until I found the opportunity to get us all out of here.
***
Oliver was true to his word. We had a more comfortable place to sleep, the armed guards positioned at the door and window. The sleeping pod as they called it looked exactly like his except for the mess of tools and contraptions. In the far corner was a tiny tube-like room with a toilet and mirror. We let Thomas have the bed while we took the extra blankets and pillows stored in those wall cubbies and camped out on the floor. Not much sleeping went on in there, though. The others asked me a million questions about my conversation with Oliver. That just gave them even more questions, most of which I had no answers for just yet. I needed to get a layout of the camp. If Oliver delivered on his second promise, I would be able to get a better view of the place.
After getting a good forty-five minutes of sleep it was morning. A different set of colonists came into that sleeping pod. Instead of guns or sacks to put over our heads, the group made up of two women and two men each had a tray of food in their hands. They set them down a few feet from the door and left in a hurry. They were more frightened of us than we were of them.
“They’re giving us food?” Flo asked, pushing her frizzy hair out of her face.
Phoenix jumped up and walked over to it, looking at each one closely. “There’s nothing synthesized about this stuff,” she said. “It looks...amazing.” She grabbed a tray and brought it over for us to see. Jade green slices of apples. Fluffy brown bread smeared with purple jam. A decent helping of bright white scrambled eggs.
No one waited to see who was going to taste it first. After days of protein bars and frozen dried fruit, this was the best-looking food we’d seen in days. We each grabbed one of the remaining trays and dug in, slamming the food into our mouths. The sweetness of the jam. The softness of the bread. The savor of the eggs. The crispness of the apples. This food was better than anything the Sector A mess hall had ever served up, even on holidays. It took everything in me not to lick the tray clean.
The door opened again and it was Oliver. Verona and a few more armed men accompanied him. “Did you all enjoy your breakfast?”
We all looked at each other, no one daring to speak.
“It was fine,” I said, standing slowly.
“That food was all grown and raised right here using the resources this planet has to offer.”
“What kind of resources?” Thomas asked.
“I’m glad you asked,” Oliver replied. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
They cuffed our hands in front of us and escorted us outside. Our sleeping pod was one of at least fifty arranged in neat rows of ten. Behind them were black trees with dark leaves and red blossoms.
When we cleared the little cluster of pods the entire camp opened up in front of us. It took up acres upon acres of soft yellow and green plains that went far beyond the perimeter wall. One smooth dark path divided the place in half. On the right was a large building made of scrap metals and wood. Women and men were hanging clothes on lines. Next to them were work benches where men pounded pieces of metal into straight, usable pieces. On the left, people sorted through buckets of rock and dirt, pulling out the small red stones. The canopy built over them provided plenty of shade. The tune they were humming was a song I’d never heard of before, but it was lovely all the same. We walked by rows of cars with no wheels, the repairmen working diligently under their hoods. Glowing Oranium crystals were all over their workstations.
This is weird.
Sector A was more of a governing, trade, and education center. Seeing people working outside like this was a bit strange. It was also strange to not see many buildings either.
“What is this place?” Flo asked.
“This is where we call home now,” Oliver explained. “Here we live like a true commune. Everyone does the jobs they’re good at, contributing to the benefit of the camp. In turn, we share the fruits of our labor equally. No rations. No coin.”
Was this guy crazy? How could one run a place that didn’t use currency?
We stopped to let a group of children pass. “Back there is the school where every child gets a well-rounded education. Not learning trades.” Those kids reminded me of Flo and me as kids.
“Sounds too perfect to be true,” Phoenix commented, and I had to agree. Every
one looked so happy and worry free. It didn’t seem natural.
“It’s far from perfect, but we’re growing and learning together as a community,” Oliver said. “The key is that there isn’t just one person who makes all the decisions. We all have a say in how we want to live.”
“But people will never agree on everything all the time,” I said. “It’s human nature to disagree.”
“We do disagree,” Oliver explained. “But the difference is we’re all on a level playing field. No one here is starving. No one’s living quarters is bigger or smaller than the others. No one has more supplies than the other. The more we produce they more there is to go around. It gives people a stake in how well this community functions.”
That’s a nice concept. A noble one actually. But can it work? I’m sure if it did the president would’ve entertained the idea a long time ago.
At the end of the long dirt road was a three-acre community farm. The crops were in octagon-shaped pads, enclosed with wood and metal barriers. In the middle was a small pit filled with reddish water. The produce themselves were in neat little rows, each one no bigger or smaller than its neighbor. This place had the most people working there, inspecting, picking, and planting the food.
Thomas was especially fascinated, ignoring the guard’s warning to stay put, so he could get a closer look at the pad in front of us. I recognized the vegetables growing in there—bright blue peppers.
“How in the world did you get these to grow so big and beautiful?” Thomas asked.
Oliver dug into his pocket and pulled out a fiery red crystal. He handed it to Thomas. “These crystals,” Oliver said. “It’s the reason why we chose this location. They’re all over this place. We found them to have tremendous growth particles. Thanks to a special water filtration system in each pod, we can now grow more food in less time.”
I thought Thomas was going to burst with excitement, firing off question after question.
“I’m afraid I don’t have all the answers,” Oliver said. “But my guard here can take you to speak with the head farmer Charlie. He can explain everything.”
Just like that, Thomas was whisked away and I didn’t like it. I couldn’t keep them safe if we were apart. Maybe that was Oliver’s plan all along.
“And what about the animals?” Phoenix asked. “Like the chicken who gave us the eggs we ate this morning? Did you supersize those, too?”
“Of course not,” Oliver replied. “We found bigger chickens. And we found a way to domesticate the mountain pigs to give us the protein we need.”
Phoenix’s expression softened. “Is there any way we can see these animals?”
This isn’t right.
This guy knew the sort of things that would let our guards down and trust him. I eyed him as he showed off his prized animals in their open air pens. The oversized birds squawked and flapped their purple feathers at us. The mud-colored pigs with tusks as long as their bodies snorted in the next pen over as Oliver talked about their successful meat and dairy farm. What was his end game? We were going to get so enamored with his place that we would become traitors too and stay? No matter how many times he glanced my way I wasn’t going to act like the others. Someone had to remind him that he was still a criminal. None of us could trust him.
Chapter 7
Our day wasn’t over after the tour. That evening we joined the five hundred plus people for their nightly meal. Instead of a mess hall we all sat in the grass around a huge fire pit under the stars. Roasted mountain pig, sautéed vegetables, and fresh squeezed juice was on the menu. Thomas, Phoenix, and even Flo were chatting amongst themselves. It was as if our guards weren’t still sitting behind us, watching our every move. Sure, we weren’t cuffed anymore, but I couldn’t be that comfortable. So I was quiet and kept to myself. Everyone else, including Oliver, were laughing, joking, and chatting amongst themselves. Mechanics, farmers, crystal pickers, laundry maids—they all socialized and mingled with one another.
“I hope you enjoyed the food.” Oliver sat down next to me.
The food was amazing. I’d never had anything so savory and spicy before. And the taste? I could’ve eaten three more helpings. “It was fine,” I mumbled.
“You don’t buy any of this, do you?” he asked.
I looked out at the fire pit, the flames beautiful and dangerous all the same, like Oliver and this place. “No, I don’t.”
“A lot of people felt the same way you did when they first came here. It’s as if it’s against your nature to be happy and not worry about where your basic necessities will come from. However, once they get to live here and be part of the community, they realize that it isn’t a facade. It’s the real thing.”
“So what, we’re supposed to convert and stay here with you?”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
“Course you wouldn’t. The moment we step out of here the president will find you. All these people that you duped into staying here will be doing hard labor for your crimes.”
“Wasn’t the whole point of coming to New Earth to start a new and better way of life?”
I turned to him, the firelight making his eyes twinkle. “Everyone knows that.”
“So who says that the charter way is the right one?”
“And who are you to say it isn’t?”
He smiled. “Exactly.”
That was not the answer I was expecting.
“That’s my point. Who am I to say which is the right way? I am only one man. Who do have a say are the people.”
I opened my mouth to say that the people did make a choice, but I quickly closed it. I wasn’t around when Old Earth created and voted on the New Earth Charter. Neither were my parents. My grandparents didn’t mention anything about them voting on the charter when they boarded Resurgence. It was something that always was. Understood. Never questioned. We had elections for presidents and advisors, but I never voted in those. Only representatives from each sector of the ship did.
Oliver stood up and offered his hand. “I want to show you something.”
I looked at him and then at his hand before taking it. My designated guard stood up, but Oliver motioned him to sit back down.
“I’m sure we’ve established that Officer Wilson doesn’t have anything to fear from us,” he said, looking me in the eye.
I was far from assured. I wasn’t going anywhere alone with him. Verona felt the same way and started making her way over to us as soon as Oliver stood. I got to my feet. I didn’t want her manhandling me.
“Are you ready to transport the prisoners back to their quarters, Oliver?” she asked, not looking in my direction.
“We can’t think of them as prisoners much longer, Verona,” Oliver said. “Especially if we follow through on our plans.”
Plans? What were they planning on doing with us? “What plan is that?” I asked.
She glared at me, but Oliver didn’t seem to notice. “I was just about to show you.”
Show me what? How you plan to kill my friends and me? Or make us indentured slaves for this place? “Show me here.”
Verona stepped in front of me to catch Oliver’s attention. “Don’t show her anything. She can blow the whole thing.”
Oliver’s face grew serious for the first time since I met him. “Them coming here wasn’t expected, but it can work to our advantage. She will know everything. When we meet with the president in two days time, keeping her informed is a good sign of good faith.”
President? Good faith? What in the world is going on?
The sounds of chatter and laughter got louder, making it impossible to discuss anything further.
“All right, I’ll go with you but only on one condition.”
Verona turned around. “You’re in no position to make demands,” she said through her teeth.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I told her right before Oliver pulled her aside.
“Name it,” Oliver said.
“We talk outside,” I said. “I don�
��t know you well enough to be in a room with you.”
He grinned. “Fair enough. My tablet is back in my quarters. I can have a guard escort you to the farms. I will meet you there.”
“I can take her,” Verona offered, but he shook his head.
“No, Verona. I need you to finish up those security reports for me.”
Her fists clenched and her thin lips tightened. I halfway expected her to throw a tantrum, but she stomped off instead.
Without another word, the guard walked me to the farm several yards away from the outdoor festivities. I even caught sight of Verona with a group of men heading into the woods, lantern in hand. I could imagine her cursing my name with her fellow mates, which was okay. I wasn’t fond of her either.
We waited under the bright moons’ light until Oliver returned fifteen minutes later. He had a tablet in his hand and from what I could tell there weren’t any weapons strapped to his slender trousers. I couldn’t see anything poking out of his fitted shirt either.
He dismissed the guard and as soon as he left he handed the tablet to me. It was a document titled New Earth Peace Treaty. Right under it listed were the parties as New Earth and New City.
“It’s a peace treaty between us and your New Earth sectors,” he explained as I scrolled through the paragraphs of text. “I plan to present it to your president two days from now.”
“The president knows about the place?”
Oliver nodded, his face pleasant but serious. “He doesn’t know where we are. We’ve been fortunate enough to have coders here who encrypted our communications so it can’t be traced.”
“So you even have your own communications tower?” I found that hard to believe. It took years to fashion one from parts from Resurgence.
“Something like that,” he said with a sly grin. That meant he was using ours to bounce off of.
“Why haven’t I heard about this meeting or that this place even exists?” I asked him.
“We’ve only contacted Sector A twice. Once announcing ourselves and proclaiming New City as a sovereign province. The second was to meet at the river to reach a peace accord. Aside from that, I don’t know why the president hasn’t made things public.”
